


Date, interrupted

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy and Coulson are like Romeo and Juliet, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, on the field together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Some time in the future Daisy and Coulson try to date.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



**i.**

At first she thinks she has the wrong address, and then she remembers how Simmons told her that Fitz hired the entire restaurant where they had their first date for the night, so they could be alone. Daisy was happy for her friend but thought she would hate that kind of gesture (Daisy would die of embarrassment if that ever happened to her, plus she wouldn’t feel comfortable having to whole staff of a place waiting on just her), and now she wonders what to do if Coulson would be the kind of person who’d do that to her on a first date without asking.

Anyway she’s not sure this is a date.

(It is a Date, capitalized, that’s the whole point)

Anyway Coulson didn’t do such a thing, and she just thought the restaurant was empty because the place is discreet and dark-ish. She can see customers at the tables on the back.

“I thought you’d prefer somewhere quiet,” Coulson explains as he takes her coat. “So you wouldn’t be worrying about getting spotted.”

She’s not exactly a wanted criminal anymore, thanks to her deal with SHIELD (she guesses technically she’s a consultant), which scratched her pending warrants. But that doesn’t mean she has stopped being a somewhat public figure.

“Believe me, no one would think I’m _her_ looking like this,” she says, gesturing at her clothes. She doesn’t look elegant, but hey she has made an effort. The make-up and the hair and all. She definitely doesn’t look like the scary vigilante most people think her to be. She feels a bit ridiculous. Then again she hasn’t been on an actual date out in like six or seven years.

“You look great,” Coulson says, effortlessly, casually, which makes the compliment feel even better.

In that moment she feels comfortable, even though Coulson commenting on her appearance is not exactly usual.

“Mmm, thanks. You look nice, too.”

Someone takes her coat from Coulson’s hands and they sit at their table.

“Wow,” she looks at the menu. “These are very big prices for such a small restaurant.”

“That’s usually the case.”

“This place is very you,” she comments. She doesn’t want to sound ungrateful but… “No, it’s very nice.”

She doesn’t normally like guys ordering food for her but she is tempted to tell Coulson to do it. She has no idea what most of this stuff tastes like. She has to Google a couple of things before deciding.

Coulson tugs at his tie for a moment. Maybe he is not used to dressing formal anymore.

Maybe he is nervous about this, like she is.

She orders something complicated, duck - she likes duck, she’s just never had it like this before.

“So what do I do now, do I tell you about my day or…? Okay, it’s been a while.”

It’s more than that, of course, but mainly, she has no idea how a date with Coulson is supposed to go. Coulson is Coulson. He’s not a dude you date.He’s the dude who is the most important person in your life and Daisy doesn’t date those. Except she is, right now.

“It’s been a while for me too,” he admits. “And well, I know all about your day from tv.”

“Yeah, that was…” A normal Friday, Daisy wants to say. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Coulson says. “In the date, evidently, but also I’m glad you are safe. Always.”

“It was nothing. But the press is all over anything that’s vaguely Inhuman these days.”

“All that hypervisibility is not making SHIELD’s job easy either.”

“I just wish the people trying to kill us were as hypervisible…”

She fidgets with her napkin. Cloth napkins. None of her former dates involved cloth napkins before. It should make her feel happy - she knows Coulson wants to give her the best - but it makes her feel out of place instead. 

It’s not that she wants the kind of date she used to have with her other boyfriends, the greasy BBQ shacks, or just getting tipsy on cheap beer and making out on the couch. But this is not what she wants either.

“Are you okay?” Coulson asks, noticing her going into her own head.

What she wants is to find some place where she and Coulson fit. But she doesn’t know how to tell him this, because it’s pretty unfair. This place is beautiful and Coulson’s suit looks amazing (one of his old ones, the good ones) and she is humbled that he would go to all this trouble for her.

Her phone buzzes and for a moment she is almost relieved to be interrupted.

In the time it takes her to read the message Coulson’s phone vibrates as well.

“There’s been a Watchdog attack, they want us to check out the scene,” he says. “Want a ride?”

Daisy nods. “We should get going.”

She looks down at their plates, they barely had time to eat any of the delicious, expensive stuff.

“Hey, how come you got the news five seconds earlier than I did?” Coulson asks, looking amused, once they make it outside.

It’s no longer and date and they are just Daisy and Coulson again.

She smirks. “My algorithms are better than your algorithms.”

 

**ii.**

Next time they are supposed to go out they have to cancel a couple of hours before the date. At least they manage to squeeze some minutes alone as they suit up for the mission. Something has been bothering him, but he is not sure this is the time or the place. He’s not sure there can be an adequate time or place with them, though.

“Maybe I was trying too hard the last time,” he confesses, while he checks the rounds in his ICER.

“What do you mean?” Daisy asks.

“The restaurant. Maybe that wasn’t what you wanted. Maybe you’d have preferred something more… casual.”

He wonders if he can manage to ever be casual about this.

She shrugs, adjusting her belt. “I told you to pick the place.”

“Yeah but…”

He can’t find the words. He doesn’t have time anyway, the mission calls. That is new too - he has never been on the field with someone he cared for like this. He’s been on the field with people he loved, sure, people he was scared to lose. But not people he was also dating. Trying to date. Linguistics always got complicated when it came to Daisy - why would this be any different.

Everything goes well with the mission, in no small part thanks to her. She might not be a SHIELD agent anymore but SHIELD still depends on her. For once that doesn’t involve the odd bruise or scratch. And Coulson feels grateful for it, not having to see her get hurt on their first mission after their not-date a few days ago.

“Can you stay for five minutes?” Coulson asks, after the mission. He is used to watching her slip away quietly after each mission. “Please?”

Daisy seems to think about it. He knows her schedule is not exactly relaxed. Eventually she nods and agrees. “Sure.”

He gets her a beer.

He would have rather talked about this in the Zephyr 1 and not here in the Playground. Too many new people in the Playground, the plane feels more his space, and by extension Daisy’s. He knows she is not comfortable here. He hopes she will be, one day.

She drinks her beer in silence for a moment - she looks relieved to have an excuse to wind down and take a moment and Coulson wonder how often she allows herself this in her busy, committed life - and then gives him a pointed look, silently telling him to explain why he kept her with him.

“I feel like I was being patronizing, the other night.”

“How come?” Daisy asks.

She moves, standing close to him in the kitchen. Her proximity didn’t affect her while on the mission, but now, discussing this, Coulson realizes it has changed thing - her spoken availability to him, and their self-imposed rule to follow an order. His idea, of course, he remembers, kicking himself a bit. He probably should have learn by now that he, of all people, shouldn’t waste time.

“I wanted to take you out to a fancy restaurant,” he tells her. “Good food, good drinks. Pamper you. As if…”

As if... Yes, that was the patronizing part. He was assuming no one had ever done that for her. He had wanted to swoop in like a white knight and shower her with luxury and romantic gestures. Because he thinks she deserves it, yes, but that doesn’t make it any less patronizing.

“Sorry, it was presumptuous,” he adds. “Of course you don’t need anyone to-”

She presses her body against his for a moment (his hand moves, seemingly of his own volition, to brush against her back for the briefest second) and her mouth against his, lips closed and soft and gone too soon.

He looks at Daisy in confusion.

“I hated the restaurant,” she tells him. “But I love the sentiment.”

 

**iii.**

“I should have let you pick the restaurant that first night,” Coulson says, looking around in approval.

“It’s just a neighborhood Italian. It’s probably not even that good.”

“Don’t do that,” he says softly. “The place is lovely.”

This time she is trying not to try so hard. Which is difficult. Still dressed up, though because - she found out the first time - that part was fun.

They are served absurdly big plates of pasta and Coulson looks delighted.

Daisy knew she couldn’t compete in Coulson’s leagues when it came to picking good restaurants. So she doesn’t try to compete. Coulson doesn’t know but she brought him to this place because it reminded her of the cheap family restaurant she used to frequent back in Hell’s Kitchen. The one with the big portions and friendly stuff that let her use their bathroom even when she wasn’t going to order anything. She wants to share that memory with Coulson, even if in secret, without him knowing.

“I’m glad you could make time tonight,” she says, reaching out across the table and touching his hand, his knuckles. Touching Coulson has always given her comfort, and she would have liked to do it more often. That sounds pervy but Daisy doesn’t mean it like that; she has always liked knowing he’s there, it’s just that.

Coulson smiles warmly at her from across, and she takes her hand away slowly, feeling the electricity of touch in her toes for a moment.

“Me too,” he tells her.

“Not that I didn’t enjoy seeing you punch Watchdogs in the face…”

“Not that I didn’t enjoy watching you vibrate their guns apart…”

“But I’m glad you’re here.”

After all she was the one who had asked him out in the first place, originally. Clumsily and all wrong, like a teenager. Except she never asked anyone out as a teenager. She never thought Coulson might see her in that way, but she wanted to know if there was a possibility he might.

And of course like a big damn neon sign of a… well, of a sign, the moment she is starting to relax and enjoy being in this date, finally, her phone vibrates.

She reads the message and her body goes stiff - not date-nerves stiff, but battle ready stiff. And this time she knows she can’t bring Coulson along to have her back.

She looks up after too long a beat, struggling to find a way to explain to Coulson that she has to leave.

He frowns before she says anything. “Why is my phone not ringing this time?” he asks.

Daisy looks at the message again, avoiding his glance.

“It’s… personal,” she says, vague as she can to protect the wishes of people at the other end of the call. She still feels like she is betraying Coulson for not asking for his help. “Someone needs a favor.”

“Daisy?”

She meets his eyes slowly.

“Why is my phone not ringing?”

“Because it’s not supposed to ring,” she says. “Some people I work with… they don’t want you, people like you, anywhere near them.”

He tries not to let disappointment show, Daisy can tell. She doesn’t like feeling like she is keeping a part of her life hidden from him. Like she doesn’t trust him. Coulson knows she has her own missions.

“Because I’m SHIELD?”

“And you’re human,” Daisy adds.

The hurt in his face is the worst, it’s worse than the last time someone shot at her. She wishes Jiaying was alive - alive without trying to kill her and that stuff, she means - so she can ask her if that’s how it felt for her, if Cal would look at her like this, when she couldn’t let him in.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him, wishing she could touch his hand again. “I have to go.”

Coulson takes a moment to react, lost in thought. He shakes his head.

“Yeah, no, go,” he tells her, gesturing. “I’ll take care of the bill. Don’t worry.”

She mouths a hurried, embarrassed “thank you” and can’t bring herself to look back.

 

**iv.**

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell us we shouldn’t do this,” Daisy says when he comes back from his meeting.

Coulson has come to her bunk on the plane (she doesn’t officially have one, but unofficially…), for a second round of apologies for tonight.

She is still wearing her date dress (the one she wore to their first attempt, and Coulson wonders if she has more than one), but her expression is weary. It can’t have been comfortable, waiting for him. Coulson is still mostly in his tactical gear and she is wearing a dress. He sighs apologetically.

“Sorry we missed our reservation and you were stuck here the whole time.”

“I wish you had told me before I came on board,” she complains, her shoulders looking heavy.

It was emergency protocols. They had to keep the Zephyr on the air, and Daisy couldn’t leave. He had asked the Director to bring her down with him, but they didn’t want any Inhuman on the scene. The crime scene. Where company men like him discussed how dangerous Inhumans where, while Coulson coolly analyzed the evidence. He knew no Inhuman had done it, but the rest of the present didn’t much care for his “theories”. 

“It was a last minute thing. They needed my expertise on Inhumans.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Right. Your expertise.”

“You’re still angry with me.”

She stands up from her bed.

“What? No. _You’re still angry_ at me for not telling you where I went the other night. But that was not my secret to tell.”

Has she been worrying about that for the past couple of weeks that they haven’t seen each other? It was a shock, Coulson admits. But he knows Daisy did nothing wrong.

“I know, I know, it’s not your fault, I just…” he leans back, defeated, against the wall. “I sometimes forget who I work for - but I know you can’t.”

“You know I trust you, and I trust SHIELD, always,” she says. “But that’s not the point.”

Coulson nods. There are people out there, scared people, who have no reason to trust SHIELD. Daisy staying independent from them - from him - is vital for her mission. “I know and I’m sorry about that,” he says gesturing. His tone was uncalled for. “Long night.”

Daisy comes up to him, touches his shoulder comfortingly.

“The usual BS?”

He closes his eyes for a brief second, enjoying her touch, wishing this was as simple as his feelings. His very complicated, simple feelings. 

“The usual,” he says. But this time it was different. “Except… when you try to build a future with someone it gets harder to have patience with the same people who want to lock up that person.”

“Imagine how much harder it is for the person who is going to be locked up.”

Coulson chuckles. Daisy always has a way of putting things in perspective for him. He watches her blush.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture you again,” she says.

He smiles. “Why? You know I like it.”

And he sometimes needs it too. It’s not Daisy’s responsibility to keep him in check, but it’s a side effect of being around her.

“Did you mean it? The thing about building a future with me?”

Her eyes go wide when she asks this question, like part of her fears he is joking, pulling a cruel and elaborate prank on her, all this time.

“I did,” he admits. Maybe Daisy thinks it’s too soon and too serious, or too soon to get so serious, and he is okay with her not being sure of what she feels, but he can’t lie to her. “Did you mean the thing about believing the universe doesn’t want this to happen?”

She shrugs, lowering her gaze. “I don’t know.”

Coulson has been scared of those concepts, destiny or fate or whatever each different culture wants to call it. He has been scared of losing himself to forces stronger than him. But he’s weak, Daisy isn’t. When he is with her he’s not scared of that stuff, because he realized very early on she was an even stronger force.

It’s strange to see her hesitant in the face of something that abstract, and maybe that’s why Coulson feels uncharacteristically determined.

He goes to her, holding her face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It just like… it seems like the universe really thinks we shouldn’t do this.”

He strokes her cheeks, burying his fingers in her hair.

“I don’t care what the universe thinks,” Coulson says. “What do you want?”

Daisy kisses him, all boldness and heat, as if all her doubts just evaporated in a second. It knocks the air out of Coulson but he manages to kiss her back, trying to show the same passion. It’s been a while, he used to be a good kisser. Not to brag but. Yeah. It’s still awkward, they’re not sure what to do with their arms for a moment, until something clicks and if fate or something is trying to tell them they shouldn’t do this their bodies obviously disagree. He doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this, and for a hot, greedy moment he feels jealous of every person who got to kiss Daisy before him, but especially he gets jealous of himself, of all the years he’s spent by this woman’s side without doing _this_.

Daisy breaks the kiss because how could he ever...

“I want you,” she says, out of breath. “The universe can go to hell.”

Coulson nods.

“I want you, too.”

That makes her smile, a smile broader than he has seen in ages and he thinks that it’s unfair, that the world has convinced her something so small and so natural and obvious (he wants her) should make her so happy.

He grabs her by the waist and backs her against the tiny bunk, bunching the fabric of her dress into his fingers, reaching blindly for her bare skin. Daisy gasps at the touch, pressing a happy smirk against Coulson again. She runs her hands through his hair, pulling to get him closer.

Slowly they manage to sit down and then lie on the small bunk.

“I thought you wanted to go on a date first, to see if there really was something between us,” Daisy reminds him, arching an eyebrow, when Coulson wraps his fingers around her thigh and spreads her legs apart, positioning his body between them.

“To hell with that too,” he says, grinding his hips against Daisy. “I’d say there’s definitely something here.”

He pushes her down against the mattress, painfully aware of too many clothes between them, of her fingernails digging into his nape, of her helpfully wrapping her legs around his waist, too many clothes, too few clothes, too little and too much, so little time, yet it’s taking so long.

“I totally agree,” Daisy says, still smiling while she kisses him. “Plus if you put our interrupted dates together… I think we already have three thirds of a whole date.”

“Yes, I like that thinking,” he says, dropping kisses on her chin. “I like your thinking very much.”

 

**v.**

“See? I was right, you preferred some casual place.”

“This might be _too casual_ ,” she argues, licking the bits of mustard off the rim of her lips. “I’m freezing my ass off.”

At least she had the sense to throw some jeans under her dress before they walked out of the plane and onto the street.

Coulson gives her a look - the kind of look Coulson has never given her before.

“That’s a pity, it’s a nice ass.”

“Oh my God,” Daisy widens her eyes at him. “I’m telling the your Director you said that.”

“I’m telling him you’ve made me consume very unhealthy foods. I’m not a young man, you know, this is dangerous,” he says, licking his fingers.

“I’m telling him you picked the place,” Daisy retaliates.

“Oh yeah?” Coulson gets this mischievous look in his eyes, that for some reason makes Daisy’s body blush all over. “I’m telling my Director a known Inhuman criminal put her finger inside the ass of one of his precious agents, he’s not going to be happy.”

“You do that and I’m telling him how much you enjoyed it.”

He laughs out loud - another thing Daisy hasn’t seen him do before. To be fair, sex doesn’t mean much to her, all in all, but she is delighted that they fit so well when it comes to it as well. And she was able to enjoy herself as well (enjoy herself a couple of times, at least), a new experience for a first time. She feels her shoulders, her whole body lighter, and Coulson looks relaxed too. So relaxed he looks painfully handsome too, which, again, not something she cares much about, but a nice extra.

“You’re assuming _that_ not the first thing I’m going to write on my relationship status change report,” he is still joking.

Daisy freezes.

“Right. We have to do that.”

She has to sign little waivers every time she stay in the Playground now. Of course putting body parts inside each other would entail a lot more of paperwork for her and Coulson. There are no explicit rules against this (not yet anyway) and her not being SHIELD is probably a good thing, and probably they would have never done this if she still was an agent, but still… the idea of a piece of paper (well, it’s probably not going to be paper) linking Coulson to her made her uncomfortable.

They come upon a little park and Daisy walks in silence, Coulson walking behind, giving her some space.

“I’m sorry, I thought…” he trails off. “We don’t have to do that immediately if you don’t want to. I just assumed-”

She tosses the rest of her dinner in a trash - Coulson has long finished his hot dog, with a voracity that had prompted some adult content teasing on her part, and she wishes they could just do that, tease each other and eat junk food and kiss and not think about how they are different species and people are constantly trying to kill them - and turns to face him, trying to give him a reassuring look.

“That I wouldn’t want to sneak out with you? A known Inhuman criminal secretly hooking up with one of the agents who once were chasing her? You didn’t think I’d find that fun? And _funny_?”

But Coulson’s face is all serious, so Daisy finds them a bench to sit on and talk. 

“I would never want you to feel like you’re a secret,” he tells her.

“Oh.”

Of course Coulson’s reasons are stupidly selfless and lovely.

“Daisy. What’s wrong?”

She tries to give him an encouraging smile. 

“You know what they say, it doesn’t take a weatherman to know which way the wind blows,” she says. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so eager to leave a paper trail.”

“I don’t-”

She grits her teeth. This is the best day of her life - or at least the best day of the last few years of her life. She doesn’t want to ruin it with anger at the world. It’s not Coulson’s fault. He’s the one trying to fix the world.

“It’s not going stop with Inhuman registration. You know that. It will escalate. What if one day… what we are doing right now, a simple date, is a crime?”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” she says, voice sharp. “You don’t want me to feel like I’m your secret? Well, I don’t want you to get punished in the future for getting close to me.”

In the end she got angry. She huffs, frustrated at herself, and stands up, leaving the bench.

Coulson follows her, like always (that scares Daisy, because she knows exactly how far he will follow her). She feels his hand slip under hers, linking their fingers together. The simple quiet gesture reminds her of why he asked this guy out in the first place, and also why she shouldn’t put him in danger like this. 

“You are right. It’s not going to stop with registration,” he repeats. “Maybe that’s exactly why I want to leave a paper trail…”

She turns around. But he doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Phil.”

“No, listen. When I died, I left nothing behind. There were people who cared about me, but I always knew they’d do fine without me. I didn’t have a family, a legacy. I never made any difference in the world.”

her words make her eyes water for a moment. “That’s not true.”

“It was,” he says, giving her a sad, resigned smile. “Then I died and I came back. And I met you. You made a difference in the world every day of your life. I want to be like that.”

She looks down at their fingers, entangled. 

“I… don’t know what to say.”

“I won’t do it if you think it’s the wrong move,” he tells her. “But I’d like to. Have it on record. Have _us_ on record.”

“Have it on record? That’s important to you?”

Daisy knows he is not asking for her hand in marriage or anything, but she is starting to understand the logic. They don’t know what might happen tomorrow. They don’t live danger-free lives exactly. And if something were to happen to her tomorrow… yeah, she’d like that there’s a document saying that she and Coulson were a thing. People she has loved have come and gone without leaving a trace. If she were to disappear tomorrow she’d like to know that somewhere there’s record that she was here and Phil Coulson loved her and she loved him. Because that’s what this whole thing is about, the failed dates, and the great sex and this non-date. She not sure about the how, the specifics of it (Coulson has always escaped specifics for her, because he is so all encompassing) but it’s about love, about the thing she yearns for so much it scares her.

Coulson is the one fidgety this time. Daisy comes closer, grabbing the lapel of his nice biker jacket. She kisses him, making his mouth tremble under hers.

“So…” she says. “Can I get a second date?”


End file.
